


Just Another Night

by Duchesse



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Horror, M/M, Mystery, Reader-Insert, Reader-Interactive, Self-Insert, gender-neutral, lmao idk how to tag this other than bad luck follows dante everywhere
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-19
Updated: 2018-07-19
Packaged: 2019-06-12 20:07:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15347709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Duchesse/pseuds/Duchesse
Summary: All you could say is that you should’ve known better than to trust the weird regular at work just because he tips well.[Dante Sparda | Reader].





	Just Another Night

His appearance was always something of a spectacle at your uncle’s pub. After a while, you had tried to track a pattern in his visits by marking a black star on the calendar in the backroom. The guy was an irregular regular, known for an oddly vibrant personality that only managed to make him more eccentric in the end.

“Hey! Weird red coat guy is back!”

In your line of business, descriptors were a necessity considering the flagrant clientele that walked through those doors every night. It wasn’t worth learning the names of most of the folks who came in, mostly because you rarely saw the same face twice with the pub being tucked on a side-street in the outermost part of town.

This guy in particular was among your, maybe, dozen of bizarre frequenters. He had gained enormous popularity solely for the fact that his tips were nothing short of extravagant, his flippant nature made him a dazzling attraction in the dim atmosphere.

“Mine! I’ll get him.” You chimed excitably, dismissing the groans and pointed stares of disappointment as you wound your waist with a dusty apron and flipped a pen between your fingers. “Cheer up! It’s a Saturday night, y’all will get some.”

One of your coworkers tutted, feigning her annoyance as she wiped out a glass. “Totally not fair. You’re lucky he always asks for you.”

You glanced across to the pub as though to verify that, offering a meek wave when you noticed him looking at you expectantly, idly fiddling with a bottle of hot sauce on the table. He waved two fingers in his lethargic greeting, lips tilted in a familiar smile.

“What can I say,” you turned back to your coworker, pressing your thumb onto the pen in rapid succession as you rounded to the counter to the floor. “I’m just really swell.”

She exhaled heavily through her nose and rolled her eyes. “Whatever. More like your uncle just won’t fire you. Make some money for the pub for one, will ya?”

Even you couldn’t deny that her words held some truth, you merely rolled your shoulders and ambled to the furthermost corner where he waited. He sat splayed comfortably in the booth, arm draped across the back of his seat with the menu already held extended.

“I was startin’ to wonder if you were gonna come over here or not.” He said this playfully, light eyes slowly scoping the expanse of the bar before fixing with your own. “Busy night, I see.”

Your lips stretched into a taut smile as you tucked the menu under your arm, notepad and pen at the ready. There wasn’t any reason to humor him; the pub would practically be a graveyard until later in the evening, more suitable hours to lure the drunks, the college kids, and the lovelorn. But, even you had to admit it was deader than usual.

“Want a bottle of Jack’s, like always?” you asked in false chipper, although you were already scrawling it onto paper. “And a large pizza, right? No olives, but extra cheese, mushroom, and pepperoni, yeah?”

He gave a scoff of amusement, the dim light made the lines in his face seem deeper as his smiled widened. “You know me so well, I’m impressed. But, no, I’m actually gonna have to pass on all of that today.”

At this, the scratch of your pen ebbed and your eyes flicked from the paper to his face, expression bearing your confusion. The guy was highly unusual, but he always ordered the same two things every time he came in. You couldn’t understand where it was coming from, but the ambiguity of the situation made your skin crawl.

“Uh…” you scratched the back of your head with the pen, mentally scrambling to remedy the unease that lingered in the air. “Well, is there something else you were wanting to order today?”

He leaned back in his seat, held tilted at an angle that made his features difficult for you to discern from the sparse reach of light in the corner. “Actually, I got a question for you. Remember that ugly pin I left the last time I was here? It was red and everything?”

You knew exactly what he was talking about. What he had left you along with that terrific tip was some sort of antique broach; a beetle of some sort molded from gold with wings of dull garnet. It was a garish piece to be sure and didn’t suit your style, yet you still held onto it for the sake of sentimentality. 

At least, you had up until about two weeks ago when it had vanished. You uncle, despite the type of work he was in, wasn’t the best judge of character when it came to hiring new folks. It was a surprise to you that he had managed to keep the business afloat through all of the chaos and theft on the inside.

All in all, this just went to say that some of his employees had sticky fingers. That side of the family wasn’t much better, either.

For some reason, you didn’t feel any reluctance in briefing the man in on the disappearance of the broach. The knowing twinkle in his eye and smug smile sprawled across his mouth only served to deepen your bewilderment. “Why are you asking me this?”

“You’re the only person who ever gets my order right. It’d be a huge shame if something happened to you because of this, and some shitty relatives sticking their noses in places they don’t belong.” He said with a sullen sigh, seeming to give the pub a final sweeping look as he reached towards his waist.

In that moment your breath snagged in your throat, paper and pen struck the floor below when he brandished and gun and leveled it just past your head. The feeling was indescribable; surreal, you felt detached and light as a chill crept up the back of your neck and the air exploded with chaos, the sound of bullets ricocheting in your mind. 

You heard a wet gnarl and a harsh, metallic scuffing on the ground. The temptation was there to look behind, yet you couldn’t will your gaze anywhere but the man’s relaxed face even once he stood. It was only then that you noticed the gun holsters at his sides and the monstrous sword attached to his back.

How in the high  _fuck_  did he get into the pub like this?

Finally, some sensibility was returning to you, though even that was paving way to waves of anger. You felt heat rushing to your ears as you confronted him, stepping back when he came forward. “Who the hell are you?!”

The bottom of your shoes felt damp and weighed to the floor, prompting you to glance towards the floor and at the pools of viscous black that caught the sheen of the dim overhead lights. From there, you saw the mangled corpse of something; it was indistinguishable and large with long, gaunt appendages that tapered into serrated blades.

A scream worked up into the back of your throat yet never surfaced, although inwardly you could hear a cacophony of your own shrieks. In your attempt to distance yourself from the grisly sight, you stumbled; the black substance clung like tar, sending you teetering into the man’s chest.

“ _Oh-hhhho_. I usually don’t have people throwing themselves at me like this, but, can’t say I mind it that much. Gotta save that for later, though.” His arm wound your waist, reeling you flush against him just another ruckus rattled the pub, this time more of the same creatures seemed to materialize from nothing.

“Holy shit, what the fuck. What… wha…” your voice tapered into a hoarse whisper, fingers furling into his shirt. “Do something! Shoot… shoot them!”

He clicked his tongue as though to disagree. To your surprise, kept his eyes trained on you as he tucked his gun away. “Not a bad idea, but it could get ugly. Don’t need you getting stuck to the floor or anything or wrecking the place. So!”

You sputtered as he hefted you into his arms in a fluid motion, holding you tightly against him as he leapt atop booth where he had previously sat. As he kicked the window, you heard the sharpness of shattering glass deafen to the whistle of wind, leaving the pub and luring the cackling creatures after you both.

“You said you wouldn’t wreck the place, but you just kicked out a window!” you squawked against the rush of wind in your face, fingers furled into his shirt. “Do you know how much that’s going to fucking cost to replace?! What are those things? Oh my god, my shoe!”

In midst the frenzy to escape, you only just noticed that you were missing the shoe that had been stuck in the black stuff. You found it easier to lament on your missing dollar store shoe than the fact this guy was moving impossibly quick with a horde of manically chattering monsters clambering after you.

“The name’s Dante, by the way!”

Your eyes thinned as you glared in disbelief. “What?”

“You asked earlier.” With a jovial howl of laughter, Dante slid to the side with you to avoid an onslaught of swipes. He continued to surprise you by lunging forward and using the monsters as springboards to launch high into the air. “Those demons ruined the moment earlier, they just don’t get romance.”

This guy was unbelievable. Your arms were wound his neck like a vise at this point, face buried against his collarbone to avoid having to see anything at all. “I don’t care! Just let me down!”

“Hey now, no can do. Like I said, you’re the only person who ever gets my order right. And”–Dante thrust his foot into one of the demons, sending it rocketing through the air and adjusted you in his arms–”having you hang off me like this makes me think my luck is changing.”

You didn’t think it would matter too much if you voluntarily tossed yourself into the horde of demons since you forgot to clock in today, anyway.


End file.
